


What Happens in Gallopolis stays in Gallopolis

by Kumikoko



Series: The Life of a Thief [3]
Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe, Coercion, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kumikoko/pseuds/Kumikoko
Summary: Prince Faris of Gallopolis has a request the hero cannot refuse.





	1. The Prince's Request

**Author's Note:**

> I think most people had this thought, honestly. I just decided to flirt with the idea of writing it. That said, I want to point out that I do not own Dragon Quest, and I do not own the Dragon Quest characters. There are also direct conversational quotes from the video game that I do not own. I needed some of them to further the story along, and put my own perspective on it. 
> 
> As the other fics, you may interpret Erik and Elian's realtionship how you want to, be it friendship, or romance. Elian, by the way, is the hero(luminary). He is not an original character. I named the hero Elian when I started the game up and while I was unsure of if I liked the name or not, I kinda like it for him now and that's all I kinda see so it remains in my fanfics here.

**What Happens in Gallopolis stays in Gallopolis**

**Chapter 1: The Prince's Request**

Gallopolis was hot, and humid. Elian pulled at his shirt collar, panting, and sweating. He took a moment to observe the light, airy clothes the Gallopolitans wore and wondered where he could buy desert garb.

“This way.” Erik goaded, ascending white stairs. Elian snapped out of his thoughts and trudged after his friend, not having the energy to deter him. The girls had already tried, and failed to distract Erik from the sole reason they were here.

They stopped at the large, blue double doors that sported an intricate yellow diamond on them. _It looks cool to the touch_. Elian thought, setting a tentative hand on the door. _It is_. Elian confirmed, pressing on the stone gem doors to open them. Erik noticed that Elian was winded from the heat and gave them a final push.

The Sultan’s Palace was bathed in blues, yellows, and white hues that almost made Elian forget about how hot, and thirsty he was. He stepped inside, looking around at the massive columns, and groups of soldiers sparring with each other. Erik took the lead, his hands were clenched into fists as the only sign of his discomfort towards the heat besides the sweat that trickled down his brow.

“Oh how lovely.” Serena gushed, following behind the men, with haughty Veronica at her side.

“The cats are cute.” Veronica commented as she knelt down to pet a palace cat.

Erik grabbed Elian’s wrist and pulled him up the stairs where a couple of guards stood taut, armed with spears. A short, obese man wearing a turban was pacing back and forth while a fair-skinned woman sat primly on a throne.

“Ahem…fellow Gallopolitans! This is no ordinary Sand National! This race marks the day that Faris, my son and heir, comes of age, and as such—” The Sultan began, reciting for a upcoming speech. Both Veronica and Serena joined the boys at their sides while the sultan continued practicing, until he noticed he had guests. “Hm? And who exactly might you be? I have no time to grant an audience today. You must leave immediately.”

Just then, the entrance doors opened again. A tall, lanky young man strode into the palace, holding his head high. “Father!” He called with a grand flourish of his arm. “My training is complete!” He declared, striding past the group. Erik kept an eye on him, recognizing him to be someone important—or at least wealthy.

 _Are they related_? Erik wondered idly.

“Then give me the pledge!” The sultan demanded, flourishing his weighty arm towards the confident lad.

Instantaneously, the young buck brought his fist to his heart and recited the pledge passionately. “A knights word is his bond, his kingdom his master! He serves the weak untiringly, challenges the strong un—“ He faulted, then recovered with merry determination. “Unflinchingly! Ha! …And never retreats in the face of adversity!”

“Mm. Yes, very good. The Knights pledge must always be your guide, my son.” Praised the Sultan, as he moseyed over to his throne and sat upon it.

 _Definitely related_. Erik confirmed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You are a man now, Faris, and tomorrow’s race shall prove it. You must show your people that you are worthy of their adulation.” Continued the Sultan.

“Fear not, beloved Father. I shall disappoint neither you nor they,” Prince Faris declared adamantly, with a regal bow. He turned around and began to stride gallantly past the travelers, but stopped and looked directly at Elian. “Oh,” He muttered, placing a contemplative fist to his chin while he shamelessly looked Elian over.

 _Hm_? Erik tensed with apprehension. _I don’t like that look_.

“What is your name, stranger? And what brings you to Gallopolis?” Asked Prince Faris, intrigued by Elian’s rugged, country-mountain appearance.

“My name is Elian, and I am traveling with my friends to find a colorful branch last seen here that is thought to be one of Yggdrasil’s branches.” Elian explained honestly while he tugged self consciously at his shirt collar. Faris folded his arms over his chest and looked down, pondering his words.

“Surely he speaks of the Rainbough…It is the only treasure of our kingdom that would warrant that description.” Faris mumbled, thinking about the treasures his family kept. He looked up, then, speaking up. “I believe I can assist you, friend. Visit me in my chambers at the foot of the great staircase. I shall await you there.”

. . .

“Ah, you came. Thank you.” Prince Faris said with appreciate, standing before his bed. He looked Elian over again. “Yes, yes…your height and physique are perfect!” Faris noted gleefully. “And you have the face of…one who knows horses…”

 _Is he complimenting me_? Elian wondered, touching his face self-consciously. He glanced to Erik who shook his head with dismay.

Prince Faris cleared his throat as he turned around. “You should be aware that the branch you seek is a priceless royal treasure. My father is unlikely to give it away freely to some…wandering stranger.” Faris mentioned, then looked over his shoulder at them. “However, he might be persuaded to part with it if the request came from his beloved son. I have but one small favor to ask in return…”

 _Here it comes_. Erik thought, steeling himself for the coming request. Faris turned towards them and looked around anxiously, suspecting they were not alone.

“But the palace walls have so many unwelcome ears…Ah! The noise of the circus will…protect our privacy. Will you join me there?” Faris requested, focusing on Elian.

“Yes.” Elian responded without hesitation, knowing Veronica would enjoy the circus.

“Then it is agreed. I will meet you at the entrance of that ridiculous tent this evening. Do not be late, please.” Faris told him, then waved him off. Elian and his friends exited the royal room.

As soon as they were out of the castle, Serena was bursting with enthusiasm. “Like a date!?” Serena gushed, blushing.

“A date? Don’t be ridiculous, he was talking to Elian, not the rest of us.” Veronica scoffed, folding her arms across her chest haughtily. Erik shifted, leaning uncomfortably against the white fence. Veronica noticed his unusual silence, and tense pose. “And what’s wrong with you? You look like you have something to say, so don’t keep it to yourself!”

Elian looked to Erik who grit his teeth together and looked away. “It’s nothing,” Erik said, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest. Elian approached him and set a hand on his shoulder. Erik relaxed his shoulders and sighed. “It’s just that in the slums of Heliodor…dates weren’t always between a man and a woman…”

“How scandalous!” Serena gasped, astonished as she placed a hand over her mouth.

“Yuck.” Veronica muttered, sorry she asked.

“It was the only way that some of my fellow…partners survived in that world,” Erik defended, tensing again. He noticed Elian’s intense, concerned gaze and sighed again, softening. “It’s the only way _I_ survived…” Erik admitted quietly, just loud enough for Elian to hear while the girls were muttering something about how sinful non-normal relationships were.

“You survived because you are cunning.” Elian corrected, keeping his comforting hand against Erik’s shoulder. Erik shook his head, and opened his mouth to argue. He stopped, closed his mouth, and then sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, deciding that belittling himself or confessing his other crimes would solve nothing.

“The way he was looking at you, the circus is _definitely_ a date.” Erik mentioned, deflecting himself from being the main topic, and rubbed the back of his head.

“I’ll be careful, alright?” Elian assured Erik, realizing he was only confiding in him because he was concerned about him. Erik nodded slowly, and leaned into Elian’s touch. His words were sharp, always matter of fact but right now, they were reassuring.


	2. Sweet Coercion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faris makes a request that Elian(hero) can not refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, I do not own Dragon Quest, nor do I own the characters, and I do not own some of the dialogue featured in this chapter. Some of the dialogue is from the video game. I deviate from the video game here because I think this is a plausible scene. 
> 
> Elian is /the/ hero of the Dragon Quest video game, I just named him Elian is all, I thought it sounds better then referring to him as, "hero," or "luminary."

**What Happens in Gallopolis Stays in Gallopolis**

**Chapter 2: Sweet Coercion**

 

Night had befallen the desert city of Gallopolis, leaving it sunless and chilly. Elian appreciated his rugged, tattered country clothes as he led his friends to the large, colorful circus tent located on the east side of the city. As the travelers approached, Erik pointed out a hooded figure wearing extravagant and colorful clothes.

“He’s not very bright,” Erik muttered under his breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Even a low-level thief could pin point him as someone wealthy.”

“You came,” Prince Faris of Gallopolis said with relief, approaching them. “Excellent. The noise of the circus will allow us to speak without being overheard. Shall we go inside?” He asked, gesturing towards the tent. Elian nodded. “Good. The circus has already started. We should enter without further delay.” Faris suggested, heading into the tent.

The group of travelers followed Faris into the tent and settled down into chairs that were located around a round table. They were on an elevated level while the stage was below them where circus performers were entertaining the rowdy guests.

Only Erik twisted the chair around to prop his arms over the top of the curved, yellow rim. Elian raised an questioning eyebrow at him.

 _Protection_. Erik mouthed in response. 

A commotion from the stage caught their attention. A man with slicked-back black hair paraded onto the stage, juggling knives and spewing fire. Prince Faris watched the entertainer who named himself Slyvando. He caught himself staring and cleared his throat to refocus on business.

“Quickly, we must talk while the people are distracted. And please—not a word of this to anyone,” Faris began, addressing the travelers. “Now, as you may be aware, the Sand National is the most important event of the year here in Gallopolis.” Faris continued, folding his arms on top of the table. “And tomorrow I am due to make my debut in the Race to End All Races. However, there is a problem. One teeny, tiny…terrible problem.” Faris stopped, his expression darkening with shame.

 _He can’t ride_. Erik guessed, knowing everyone had an angle to grind.

“I cannot ride. In fact, I have barely so much as sat in a saddle.” Faris confided in a hushed tone. “I have so far been able to hide this…unfortunate fact, but if I were to take part in the race, the inconvenient truth would surely be uncovered.” Faris explained, hanging his head with shame. “And yet I have no choice!” Faris moaned, placing his hands on his head. “For a prince of Gallopolis not to take part in the Sand National on the year of his coming of age is unthinkable! Unthinkable!”

 _Knew it_. Erik thought, placing a bored, displeased hand onto his cheek.

Faris recovered from his passionate bereavement and pointed at Elian. “So you see, your coming here was fated! It is a sign! The forces of destiny mean me to use you as my double! Ta-da!” Faris proclaimed, his tone that of a noble weasel.

“Your double,” Erik scoffed, folding his arms onto the top of the chair tensely. “How’s that going to work? Won’t everyone notice as soon as he walks out onto the track?”

“Ah! The fates have provided there also! For you see, the royal family always races in full armor, lest the unthinkable occur! His face will be hidden from view.” Faris explained with a flourish of his hand. He stood up then, and placed his hands together. “Please! Please I beg of you! You must help me! You must enter the Sand National in my place.”

. . .

The Sand National was a success.

Elian took Prince Faris’s place and won, earning Faris the adulation of hundreds of Gallopolitians. Even as Elian hurried back to the royal dressing room, people kept stopping him to congratulate him. Elian curtseyed, waved, ducked his head and scurried away, knowing his voice held a baritone tone to it that prince Faris lacked.

As soon as he had returned to the dressing room, he did not get much of a chance to converse with Prince Faris, let alone exchange clothes before Sylvando barged in on them, learning of their deceit. A guard soon interrupted them, informing Faris that his father requested him at the castle. Faris waved him away and then refocused on Elian.

“Meet me in my chambers. There is more for us to discuss.” Faris told him, then exited the room. Elian changed into his tattered mountain garb and swiftly exited, meeting with his friends for a moment to explain the situation to them.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Erik commented with a distressed wave of his hand. “He is the nefarious type.”

“Nefariously stupid.” Veronica huffed, setting her hands on her hips.

“Now, now, Big Sis…that isn’t very nice of you to say…” Serena chided softly, which spurred Veronica to become haughty with her.

“I will come back,” Elian assured Erik, locking eyes with him. “Watch the girls for me.” Erik nodded grudgingly, then watched Elian ascend up the white stairs while the girls continued to bicker with each other.

Elian headed into the castle, and disappeared into Faris’s bedroom, where he awaited. “Shut the door,” Faris instructed to him with a wave of his hand. Elian shut the door compliantly. “Drop your bags and weapons.” Elian set his bag down and unsheathed his sword.

“I have the gift of magic.” Elian let Faris know, since the prince seemed to be concerned about potential weapons.

“Ooh,” Faris mused, intrigued. “Show me.” Faris insisted, while his eyes gleamed with excitement. Elian calmly rose his hand and focused on the hot desert sun he experienced earlier in the day.

A small fire ball materialized just above Elian’s hand. Prince Faris hummed with interest. “Yes, you are a man.” Faris commented as he gestured with his hand for Elian to come hither. Elian stepped towards him. “You were just dashing, winning that race for me.”

“Was I?” Elian questioned, raising a eyebrow of doubt.

“Yes, yes, and as a man of my word, you shall have the Rainbough…as soon as you give me one more thing that I want.” Faris said, looking Elian over again.

“What is it?” Elian asked, figuring he did not mind helping Faris if it meant he could do something fun and daring again.

“You’ve…visited with one of those Puff-Puff girls before, haven’t you?” Faris asked, making a quick imitating motion with his hand. Elian cringed, and nodded. “Good, good, then you know that I want you to give me a Puff-Puff session.”

Elian frowned, narrowing his eyebrows. “You are not a woman.” Elian stated, confused as to what Faris actually wanted him to do. Faris chuckled while he sat down onto his large bed, folding one leg over the other.

“Yet I wish to be treated as so.” Faris explained while he began to casually remove his clothes. “And since you want the prized Rainbough, you’ll make a Puff-Puff girl out of me.”

 _I did it to survive_. Elian recalled Erik saying, when he confided to him that he had been on dates before with men during his time in downtown Heliodor. _Maybe this is what Erik meant by dates_. Elian figured, steeling himself for what would surely be another awkward puff-puff encounter. “Alright, but what occurs in Gallopolis stays in Gallopolis.” Elian agreed, solemnly removing his own clothes.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, my Horse Champion,” Faris purred, standing up to brush aside some of Elian’s sweaty, damp hair. “Now kiss me.”

Elian leaned forwards, pressing their lips together. Faris wrapped his arms around Elian’s neck, pressing their bodies together. Elian blushed, feeling Faris’s hardened flesh poke his stomach.

 _Is this wrong_? Elian briefly wondered, then shut the thought out as he pushed Faris onto the bed. Faris whistled in approval and reached for the small vial of oil on his night stand. _He is rather feminine, more feminine then a lot of women back home_ …Elian reasoned, figuring performing a puff-puff session with the prince wouldn’t be as bad as it could be.

“This oil is of the highest quality, use it graciously on me.” Faris said, offering Elian the bottle. Elian grabbed the bottle and poured some of it onto his hand. It was cool and refreshing to the touch. He pressed a knee onto the bed, leaned forwards to kiss Faris again, and then pushed a slick finger into the only hole Elian knew of.

There was no complaint from Faris, who spread his legs wantonly. Faris set his hands on Elian’s shoulders, slowly feeling, and squeezing his taut muscles. Elian ignored the warm touch and pushed another finger into Faris’s entrance.

“Mm, you’re stoic and quiet,” Faris mused with approval, “The way I need you to be when we’re done here.” Elian simply nodded, focusing on his task of stretching the hole open to be able to accommodate something larger then his fingers.

True to a puff-puff session, their touches weren’t intimate, even when Faris began to stroke Elian’s penis, to harden it up. Elian bit his bottom lip, refusing to be loud like an average whore. He grudgingly let Faris stimulate his flesh into hardening since he would need it in a minute.

“How do you want this?” Elian asked, letting Faris dictate how tonight would play out.

“Impersonal,” Faris responded, rolling over onto his hands and knees. “Treat me gently, yet firmly.” Faris instructed, looking back over his shoulder at him. Elian nodded with acknowledgment, climbing onto the bed. He took a moment to slather the oil onto his erection and then he clasped his hands onto Faris’s hips.

Just as Elian pressed forwards, he paused. “Do not tell Erik.” Elian requested, thinking of his loyal companion.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Prince Faris assured Elian, impatiently. “Now, hurry up before Father calls on me a second time.”

“Alright.” Elian agreed and thrust his hips forwards, inserting his cock into Faris’s asshole. Faris moaned, tossing his head back. Elian pulled back, then pushed his hips forwards again, repeating the rhythmic thrusting motions. He closed his eyes, thinking of his childhood friend Gemma until a memory of her ruined body entered his mind.

An uneasy gasp left Elian’s mouth. He struggled to think of anyone else to keep his hard-on. Serena was a fine choice, and for awhile, as he rocked his hips against Faris’s, he thought of her, but as the pleasure began to build in Elian’s stomach, he started to envision Erik.

 _Erik is a true friend_. Elian thought, tuning out Faris’s moans, and the wet, slapping noise that sounded each time he thrust himself into Faris. _I hope I can make this adventure worth his time_. Elian hoped, thinking of Erik. He felt the pleasure burst forth from his cock, and moaned distractedly.

“Yes, yes…!” Faris moaned alongside Elian, tossing his head back as he ejaculated as well, experiencing an overload of pleasure. Elian pulled back, panting and sweaty.

“The…the branch…” Elian mentioned, rubbing at his eyes. _Was I really thinking of Erik when I_ …

“Oh, I’ll…get right on that…” Faris said between pants and gasps while he cleaned himself up. He tossed a rag at Elian, so he could wipe up as well. “Come, you shall see I am a man of my word.” Faris insisted as he dressed himself. He headed towards the bedroom door and waited for Elian to finish dressing.

“Alright.” Elian said, following after Prince Faris to the throne room where a new adventure was to begin.


	3. Back Alley Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Elian's private meeting with the prince of Gallopolis, he returns to the bar to find Erik sloshed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Dragon Quest nor its characters. That said, I don't know if this is the best chapter I have written for the series, maybe it sounded better in my head, but I've also been writing through being sick so it is what it is, and it still has importance in its own right. So, enjoy?

**Back Alley Confessions**

“Where the HELL have you been!?” Erik shouted, slamming his hands on to the table as Elian entered the bar. The reverberation knocked a few empty glass mugs onto the ground, where they shattered.

“HEY, hey, you’re going to pay for that!” The bar tender yelled, grabbing his sword.

“Oh, oh shit…” Erik panicked, tensing as he sprang towards Elian, grabbing his wrist. “We uh, have to go.” Erik said, pulling Elian up the stairs to the second floor of the inn. Elian followed, letting Erik lead them out onto the balcony. He could hear the bartender’s heavy, hurried footsteps following them.

“You can’t run from me!” Shouted the bar tender, chasing after them.

Erik looked around quickly for an escape route, then nimbly pulled himself onto the awning over the doorway. “This way,” Erik urged, stretching his hand out for Elian to take. Elian grabbed his helping hand and clambered onto the awning with him, narrowly avoiding the blade of the scimitar sword that came down at him. “Hurry.” Erik encouraged, hopping onto the roof.

“I’ll gut you both!” The bartender swore, stabbing the blade into the awning. Elian gasped and pulled himself onto the roof with Erik’s help. Erik stood up and grabbed Elian’s wrist again, pulling him to the edge of the flat roof.

“Come on, we have to get out of here,” Erik urged, hopping onto the nearby roof with ease while the bartender shouted obscenities at them. “And find the girls.” Erik said, turning to catch Elian if need be. Elian jumped from the bar rooftop, barely landing onto the nearby roof. His weight made him stumble back. Erik grabbed him and yanked him forwards.

“They’re…at the circus.” Elian said between heavy breaths as he rested his hands onto his knees. Erik peered over the edge of the rooftop, hearing a commotion occur below. The bartender was shouting at a local guard, and was pointing in their general direction.

“Then we’ll met them there,” Erik decided, stepping back into the shadows. “For now, we have to go the long way around.”

“More rooftop…jumping?” Elian asked with dread in his voice, knowing he wasn’t as nimble and flexible as Erik was.

“Yeah,” Erik responded, already seeking another route out. “Come on, this way.” Erik called, hopping onto another roof. Elian groaned, and reluctantly followed his agile friend who had been roof-jumping since he was a child.

Together, they made their way across Gallopolis rooftops with only the shade of night to keep them from being seen by the civilians down below. Their adrenaline was fading, though they remained tense, and alert of their surroundings.

A rope stretched out from the rooftop they were on, to another rooftop in the distance. Erik stepped onto it and held his arms out for balance, traipsing along the rope as he had done throughout his life.

“We just need…to cross here…and…” Erik struggled to say as the world around him began to spin. He wobbled, and then he plummeted to the hard ground below. Elian gasped, and half jumped, half fell after Erik.

They smacked onto the ground, hidden from the public by the walls of the convenient, downtrodden alleyway.

“Ugh…” Erik groaned, rubbing his aching head.

“Ow.” Elian muttered as he pushed himself up, slowly assessing his body for any damage. _I am sore, but I am okay_. Elian decided, then focused on his nimble friend who fell. “What was that!?” Elian asked, astonished Erik was the one who crashed onto the ground first.

“I…I guess I fell?” Erik offered with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

“You fell.” Elian scoffed, unable to believe what he was hearing. Erik shrugged again and slowly sat up, placing a hand onto his forehead. “You fell!?” Elian exclaimed, outraged Erik was downplaying what happened.

“Whoa, never heard you…yell before.” Erik muttered, flinching away from his friends loud voice that made the throbbing in his head ache more. Elian realized he was making a scene and glanced anxiously to the street. There were no passerby’s which gave him a sense of relief. He cleared his throat, and took a minute to calm himself before addressing Erik again.

“I’ve…not known you to fall before.” Elian said, expressing his concern in a softer, milder tone of voice. Erik pulled a leg against his chest and looked away stubbornly. Elian set his hand on Erik’s shoulder. “Are you tipsy?” Elian asked, thinking of the glass mugs Erik had toppled over when he hit the table.

“No?” Erik responded tentatively, choosing to stare at the wall to avoid Elian’s inquisitive gaze. Elian sighed with disappointment. “So what if I am?” Erik snapped, becoming defensive as he smacked Elian’s hand away.

“You could have hurt yourself,” Elian chided softly, changing his approach as he shifted to sit in front of Erik. “That’s why I was angry.” Elian explained, hoping to quell Erik’s combative behavior. Erik relaxed his shoulders, simmering down upon hearing the earnest concern in Elian’s voice.

“Yeah…I guess I was kind of stupid…” Erik reluctantly agreed, pressing both of his hands to his forehead. “Running is my first instinct…”  

“About that,” Elian began, “Does your indulgence in fire-water have anything to do with me meeting with the prince?” Elian asked, surprised Erik had made a reckless choice that impeded his ability to remain focused on the mission.

“Tch,” Erik scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know I don’t trust him.” Erik responded, glancing in the direction of the palace. “Nothing good ever comes out of _his_ type.”

“You want to remind me how you acquired the Red Orb again?” Elian countered, defending the questionable prince of Gallopolis. Erik bristled, whirling on his heels towards Elian.

“We are _not_ the same!” Erik snapped, grabbing Elian’s coat. A twinge of fear flickered through Elian’s eyes. Erik pulled immediately, folding his arms across his chest. “S-sorry…I, uh…didn’t mean to…scare you…” Erik mumbled, shifting sheepishly from one foot to the other.

_It would to me well to remember that while Erik is my friend, he’s likely killed people for saying less to him_. Elian thought, reminding himself that Erik led a life of crime. He recovered and set a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “No, I am sorry,” Elian apologized, since he hadn’t meant to offend him. “All I meant to say was that like you, the prince has some redeeming traits.”

“Ah, you’re another one of those ‘don’t judge a book by its cover,’ types.” Erik retorted, leaning against the wall, and away from Elian. “I’ve never been in a situation where withholding judgement would have allowed me to not be gutted.” Erik said, pressing the back of his head against the wall. He closed his eyes, feeling nauseous and irritable.

“I’ll never betray you,” Elian promised, then began to head for the street. “Nor will the girls, who are at the circus, you said.”

“Wait,” Erik requested, reaching for Elian. Elian stopped and looked back over his shoulder at him. “The prince…he was not…untoward to you?” Erik asked tentatively. Elian heard the anxiousness in his tone.

“No,” Elian answered, smiling warmly to reassure Erik that everything was fine. “We simply spoke about the rainbough.” Erik frowned, and retracted his hand while his eyebrows furrowed with disbelief. “Have I ever lied to you before?”

A soft sigh escaped Erik’s mouth. “I still feel as if there’s something you’re not telling me because the way he looked at you…” Erik muttered, suddenly unsure of himself.

“Sometimes our own life experience clouds our vision.” Elian advised him, then made his way out of his alleyway.

Erik’s eyes widened in astonishment.

_I’ve…never thought of it that way before_ …Erik thought, feeling breathless as he numbly followed Elian.


End file.
